Crown of Thorns: The Death of Rosalie Hale
by cosgraove
Summary: The story of Rosalie's transformation, slightly more in-depth than in Eclipse. Also, how Rosalie felt about Edward not liking her. Written for a challenge on the Twilight Challenges Forum. Updated!
1. Chapter 1

**Crown of Thorns: The Transformation of Rosalie Hale**

* * *

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

I could sense myself slipping…fading away. The overwhelming pain that encompassed every inch of my body was now reduced to a dull throb. But it too was slowly vanishing, replaced by…nothing at all. Death was looming over me. I begged death to find me quickly, trying and failing to lift my shattered arms in a futile attempt to draw it closer to me in a weak embrace.

I drew a thin, raggedy breath, shrieking in my mind at the torturous pain that ripped through my chest. I lay there in the street, nothing but a broken corpse, ashamed, humiliated, and…soiled. Roughly-laid cobble stones dug into my back, intensifying my pain to indescribable proportions. Delicate flakes of snow began to fall, soaking my shattered body, and making the rough stone beneath me slick with frost.

_I'm ready_, I told God, amazed at the composure of my thoughts.

"You're going to be fine. Stay awake, Rosalie," said God. My muscles unclenched in relief - it would be okay now. God was with me. I supposed that meant I was dead. Tranquility coursed through me - it was finally over.

He probed my injuries, searching for the extent of the damage done. Daggers of pain shot through my limbs where he touched me. If I had been able to scream, I would have done so. Death had neglected to find me once again. And if I was still alive, then the figure bending over me wasn't God. It was…. I realized I didn't know.

"Miss Hale, this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen. Can you hear me? Please try to stay with me. I promise you, everything will be fine." And then, under his breath, "Who _did_ this to her?"

A vague feeling of irritation washed over me. Who exactly had given him permission to touch me? I just wanted to be left alone to die. Here on this deserted street - this is where it would end. Why couldn't he see that?

Besides, I hadn't even liked Dr. Cullen and his family the one or two times I had seen them in society. They were far more beautiful than I could ever hope to be - than anybody I'd ever met could hope to be. Fierce jealously seethed within me, although my sweet façade hid my true sentiments. Thankfully, the Cullens tended not to hold company within my social circle very often.

Dr. Cullen worked over me a little while longer, sending vicious sparks of pain through me with every touch. And then - for the second time that bleak night - I finally died.

I knew I was dead, because at that moment, Dr. Cullen lifted me into his arms with amazing strength and began to run with astonishing, inhuman speed. The journey was still torturous, but as we flew through the darkened streets, I knew that there was no way that this journey actually existed in reality.

Within mere minutes, it seemed, I was being placed gently onto a soft bed in a warm, brightly lit room. Where was I? Heaven? Purgatory? Hell?

No, I was too good for Hell. I, Rosalie Hale, did not belong in a dark, godless pit. I went to church every Sunday, I never swore, and I was always unwaveringly obedient to my parents. Hell was a place for despicable, disgusting people. It was beneath me.

"Not enough time," said Dr. Cullen to himself. Why was he still here? I was dead - wasn't I? Obviously, I was delusional. Could the dead even be delusional? I was over thinking this whole 'death' thing.

So maybe I was in heaven then. Wishful thinking on my part. Angels - even those in the enviable forms of the Cullens - did not have cause for the worry and concern that lingered upon Carlisle's flawless features. And if I had not been certain before, the horrific agony that slashed at every wound made me positive that heaven was not where I currently resided.

"Oh, how will I ever choose? It is not my place to decide a person's destiny," muttered Dr. Cullen, barely loud enough for me to pick up on his words as he paced the length of the room. How infuriating! He was the one who got to choose whether I belonged in heaven or hell? At least I knew where I was now. It seemed I had landed in purgatory.

I must have done something right, though. The pain was slowly slipping away now, fading to a dull ache instead of the fierce blades that had presided earlier. The darkness that lapped at the edges of my vision now rimmed my consciousness, threatening to overwhelm me at any second. I was glad to follow it. I was that much closer to eternity - my happily ever after.

"I can't let this happen," Carlisle said suddenly, striding over to where I lay. I closed my eyes tightly. I was almost gone - now if he would just leave me as he should have done on that miserable street.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Hale," he whispered, barely audible. _Sorry for what? _I wanted to scream. Icy breath blew gently on my neck; diamond-edged razors balanced delicately upon my fragile flesh. And then, the jagged cuts tore through me as my skin broke under the pressure of those unseen blades, attacking my throat, my wrists, and my ankles. Despite my injuries, I screamed - a piercing, hollow sound. My chest felt ready to crack open. Under all his pretenses, Dr. Cullen had brought me back here to harm me further. What a magnificent injustice! I kept my eyes shut and let the blood flow freely from my fresh injuries.

And then the fire began. It began as an insignificant spark and grew to a torrent of acid that coursed through my veins. The excruciating pain engulfed me, and I ceased to think of anything except the welcoming arms of death - arms which refused to hold me, though I begged for their embrace with all my heart.

* * *

Written for a challenge on the Twilight Challenges Forum. Not as finished as I'd like it to be but I might finish when I have time, who knows? If you liked this, please go to my profile and check out my major story I'm working on, Dusk Descending: New Moon From Edward's Perspective. I hope you enjoyed this!

mveritym


	2. Chapter 2

**Crown of Thorns**

**The Life and Death of Rosalie Hale**

Glorious. Absolutely glorious. Oh, what a creature I had become! I sat on the plush, velvet stool by my glassy reflection, gazing at the epitome of beauty that stared back. That horrendous night was merely a memory - no physical reminder of the damage that had befallen me lingered upon my perfect, diamond-hard body. Golden ringlets fell to my waist in soft waves, framing my striking face with an amber halo. Those ruby-red eyes - they were the only things that marred my stunning form. Not that I minded. I was still the most beautiful being I had ever seen, and the vibrant color that ringed my pupils would fade soon enough.

I stood fluidly, admiring the way my shapely legs looked in Esme's borrowed heels. My well-fitting dress swirled around my knees as I spun before the mirror and critiqued every angle of my flawless body. Except there was nothing to critique - I was, without a doubt, perfect. Once I was allowed to go out - beyond hunting, that is - I would turn heads with every step. But first, I must learn to control my thirst. That insufferable burning sensation that flared angrily in the back of my throat at the slightest hint of the sweet elixir that was human blood. No matter. For now I would be content to remain cooped up in this tiny house, awaiting the day that I was sufficiently in control of my perpetual hunger to venture outside. I frowned at the thought of the coming months I would have to spend in this house, my smooth brow crumpling into angry lines. Quickly, I returned my expression to normal. Unnecessary, really; my forehead would never wrinkle. Old habits die hard, though.

I twirled again before my reflection, stopping to marvel at my full, ruby lips, my slender, perfectly angled nose, and those bloody, piercing eyes. Stunning. So why wasn't it enough? Why was the only suitable male in this household completely uninterested? Oh, I didn't want him like that. I only wanted for him to admire me…desire me. Even just a little. I would give him one last shot.

I strode into the living room, where Edward Cullen - my chosen object of seduction - sat, toying with the guts of some electrical device he had taken apart.

"Hello, Edward," my voice as smooth as honey. "What are you doing?"

He kept his eyes on the device - or what was left of it. "I acquired a radio, and as you can see, I've been making some…adjustments."

_Look over here, you fool. _"Oh." How thoroughly mundane. What a way to waste eternity.

"I'm not looking over there, Rosalie. Go back to drooling over your appearance, why don't you?" he said, viciously. Damn it. I always forgot about his stupid ability to read minds.

One last attempt. "So, I don't suppose you'd like to take me hunting, tonight, would you?" I asked in as alluring a voice I could manage.

"Well, maybe," Edward began. At last! "But unfortunately, I have had the displeasure of discerning your less-than-pure motives, Miss Hale." Smug bastard.

I stalked back to my room, an impassive veneer hiding my seething fury. I flung myself face-down upon my bed, burying my beautiful face in the fabric. A piercing scream of frustration rose from within my chest, muffled by the soft comforter. From somewhere within the house, I thought I heard a low chuckle and the sound of a radio playing.

* * *

Second part - hope you liked it! Now go to my profile and check out my other story: Dusk Descending - New Moon from Edward's Perspective. Read and review!

mveritym


End file.
